The Mandalorian has Baby Yoda. I have Baby Patches. She doesn’t use The Force. She just head butts my hand when she wants me to pet her.

Patches is a big fan of Jen’s cool headphone stand.

My desk is cluttered. Patches has less room to spread out. She looks annoyed yet she’s purring like a chainsaw.

So she’s mad, but she’s happy about it’s. Similar to 13 year old Harry Potter, yes?

Patches heard me talking about doing the RPM Challenge and she laughed at me. If that how it’s gonna be, let’s see who fills your food bowl.*

*It will be me. She can abuse me all day, I’m still going to take care of her. The little jerk.

I don’t think she likes it when I use the second desk in the office. She wants the desk, and Jen, to herself.

Sitting on the tray thing on the coffee table thing. Often when she sits up there we end up with a fireworks display of cat vomit. She turns into a lawn sprinkler spewing in all directions.

So far she hasn’t shown any signs of a puke-splotion.

Cat paw.

Also, the rest of the cat.

Lazy cat.